The Phantom of the Opera
by Jubie Bee
Summary: So we all know the musical but I want to get a look at the hows and whys. So this will be the libretto of the musical coupled with my own thoughts on what was going on in the heads of the characters. I like to think it's fair and objective but I won't play favorties and I won't be changing the ending. Any corrections that you noticed let me know!
1. Chapter 1

**The Phantom of the Opera**

The Paris opera house, the jewel of the Persian theatre world was a splendor to behold. It's domed roof flanked by golden sculptures and its alabaster majesty made it a sight to behold. The pride and joy of course was its opera's that were performed by only the most seasoned and well trained performers. The corpse de ballets were also on hand to bring the audience to its knees with their many beauties. Among them two girls, close as sisters. Meg Giry, the daughter of the formidable ballet mistress Madame Giry and young Christine Daae. Christine was the odd one out of the two after losing her father to consumption. You see, Daae had been employed to become the new violinist in the orchestra for the opera. After his passing, Christine, then just a young woman of 18 traveled to Paris so that her father would not go to the grave with a sullied reputation for abandoning a career at the opera house. The managers were disappointed at the loss of a truly magnificent violinist but were intrigued when they found that Christine had a back ground in song and dance. A brief audition with Madam Giry and Mousser Reye, who conducted the orchestra, secured Christine to the company.

After much grieving for her lost father Christine attempted to carry on as best she could. Her thoughts never too far from who she had lost. She found herself waking in the night and wandering around the empty theatre. She loved the ballet dormitories but there was something about the beauty and magic of the theater that made her heart beat fast. The thrill of being a prima donna or even a prima ballerina was a dream. Something Christine longed for so much it hurt. One night she sat on the edge of the stage before the grand opening of Faust and wept a little, she had wanted nothing more than to come to Paris and sing in the opera with her father playing for her the most beautiful music one could hear. Sadly neither of these things would ever be. Softly she began singing the aria from Faust and lost herself in the power of it. She realized how loud she sang and quickly closed her mouth. She hid in the folds of the red velvet curtain hoping no one had heard her. If she was caught out of bed after hours she would be in trouble for certain. After a few minutes no one seemed to have noticed. Christine quickly flew back to her room and crawled under the thick blankets.

Christine had been wrong though. Someone had heard her. Deep in the bowels of the opera he worked tirelessly at writing a master piece. Erik was obsessive with his work and was able to go several days without food or sleep to perfect it. Currently he did not know where to begin. Don Juan triumphant was in its early stages. He had a title and a bare outline but no story, no score and no characters. Fuming at his own incompetence, the so called "phantom of the opera" decided to walk up to the stage to see if he could gain some inspiration. Coming out of one of his many secret passageways he heard a voice. At first he thought he may have misread the time and feared he had come up during rehearsal. Not that he didn't watch the rehearsals but it was usually from a higher venue so as to avoid detection. Seeing how empty the wings were he knew he wasn't mistaken but was intruding on a young woman. She sat forlornly at the edge of the stage in a pale blue nightgown with her dark brown hair in a braid and sadly, sweetly sang the aria from Faust. Faust was an old favorite and he was anticipating its gala night but something about this young girl intrigued him. He had seen her before, though for the life of him he could not remember where. As she raised her head to sing louder and clearer he realized she was the daughter of the brilliant violinist who had been hired a month before but had never shown up. It was a shame too; the man had been one of the best Erik had heard in years. The intricate tunes and music he played were breath taking. In fact next to himself, he had never heard such perfection. Seeing the tear stained face and hearing the sorrow in her song Erik realized why the man, Daae was it? Had never come to take his place. Though the daughter did not seem to have what one would call the ideal voice, Erik could tell that she had the passion and potential to become a great singer. Her high notes meant of course that she was a soprano but with training he felt she could possibly be a coloratura. While he tried to place her range note for note she noticed her own volume and promptly fled behind the curtain. Now thoroughly distracted Erik waited until he saw her slip out of the mass of velvet and hurry back to her dormitory before continuing his walk. He climbed the stairs to the roof of the building. Looking out at the Paris streets on clear nights like this always got him to thinking. Only now instead of Don Juan he was caught up in the little girl. She had that recognizable love of the stage, of the theatre, of the music. Having seen dozens of singers on that stage Erik knew the difference between a thirst for fame and a general love. Still he feels that a girl in that position deserved a chance. Her voice could become something so beautiful it would be blinding. The question now was how to go about it. The current Prima Donna, Andrea Richard, was kind and talented but was too smart to play into his tricks or attempt to help a girl who could be her replacement. He knew Andréa's days were numbered anyway, at 36 she would hardly be able to play the young ingénue parts for long. The mangers were already in negotiations to have a younger singer, Carlotta Guidicelli, brought in from Italy where she made a name for herself four years ago. According to the letters and word of mouth, she was a striking redheaded beauty all of 29 with everything going for her. Perhaps she would be up to the challenge? Erik pondered and decided he would have to do it. He didn't know when or how but he would.

It all began when he left Christine a note saying her father's promise had come true. Her angel would be waiting for her in the empty wig and costume room at midnight. Christine thought it a cruel prank but no one knew of her father's promise. Despite her inner sadness, the solace she had taken in her friends helped ease the pain somewhat. Up until this point Christine felt she had dealt with the loss fairly well but the memory of this "Angel of music" threatened to bring the pain back fresh. That night Christine rose from her bed and made her way to the empty room. In the room sat a single candle and a sheet of music. It was "Pur dicesti, o bocca bella". It was a lovely aria by Antonio Lotti. Lotti? She was a little confused. Lotti was a nickname she once had, was this a coincidence? Suddenly a voice rang out, "Do not be frightened child, it is I your angel of music" for the next three years she would accept her angel without question.


	2. Paris 1881

3 years later, 1881

The stage was set perfectly for the dress rehearsal for HANNIBAL, with a lovely painted back drop in the perfect golden color of a roman sunset. The production had cost quite a pretty penny but when it came to its operas money was no object. After several hours of repetitious scenes that had made it to the one that needed the most tweaking. As the lights came up, Prima Donna diva Carlotta walked front and center. In her arms was a false, albeit gruesome a bleeding severed head. They were just about to come to Elisa Queen of Carthage's (his mistress) solo. The plump redheaded diva belted out the climax of an extravagant cade:

"_This trophy from our saviors, from the _

_Enslaving force of Rome_!"

Her voice was the perfect stereotype of an operatic soprano. Not that it was technically bad, she was actually quite in key, it was just shrill and high. She had come to the theatre as predicted, replacing the previous seasoned soprano. She had a round pretty face, large eyes and full lips. Her figure was plump but the weight did no damage to her beauty. As she sang the verse a stage hand carries a ladder across the stage. Others are seen still constructing parts of the scenery. The extravagance had taken a toll on the stage crew and last minuet paint jobs were essential to the perfection of the show.

While the construction continued the petite beauties of the chorus came flowing onto the stage. "_With feasting and dancing and song, _

_Tonight in celebration _

_We greet the victorious throng, _

_Returned to bring salvation!"_

Joined quickly by the men's chorus of less petite and more muscular dancers:

"_The trumpets of Carthage resound! _

_Hear, Romans, now and tremble! _

_Hark to our step on the ground!"_

And soon the entire company connected in perfect harmony.

_"Hear the drums - Hannibal comes!"_

And Hannibal made his big entrance amidst the very crowded stage. Umbaldo Piangi was a portly man in his early forties. He was handsome in his youth but between age and general lack of care he had gone fat and balding. He'd come over from Italy as per Carlotta's request as he was the only one that she would ever play opposite (this was a cover for the fact that no one else could stand to work with her.)

_"Sad to return to find the land we love _

_Threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching _

_Grasp. "_

Having had enough of Piangi's horrendous accent that he knew was exaggerated, Reyer lost it.

_"Signor . . . if you please: "Rome". We say "Rome' not "Roma" _

Piagni was truly too dense to realize what he was doing wrong. He furrowed his painted on eye brows. "Si, si, Rome, not Roma. Is very hard for me. Rome . . . Rome . . . "he said loud and slowly amidst the eye rolling of his co-stars and leading lady. The chorus girls tittered behind their hands. Christine and Meg were barely paying attention. The giggled at the ridiculous looking false head. Picking up where they left off Lefèvre, the retiring manager of the Opera, with M. Firmin and M. Andre, to whom he has just sold it entered. He was dressed in an eccentric cape, his own flair he always had no matter what it was. As the men proceeded down the aisle, recovered himself long enough to continue. "Once again, then, if you please, Signor: "Sad to return . . ." Lefèvre turned back to his successors "This way, gentlemen, this way. Rehearsals, as you see, are under way, for a new production of Chalumeau's "Hannibal". He said it with pride and he was proud. Hannibal was no easy opera by far and he had spent most of his budget on it. Seeing a hiatus in the rehearsal, he attempted to attract attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may already, perhaps, have met M. Andre and M. Firmin ..." while the new managers politely bowed, an irate Reyer got his ire up again "I'm sorry, M. Lefèvre, we are rehearsing. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment?"

"My apologies, M. Reyer. Proceed, proceed ... "

"Thank you, monsieur" Reyer turned back to Piagni who was sweating so much under his roman helmet his make-up was coming off. "Sad to return..." Signor ... "

Lefevre rolled his eyes and turned to the two waiting men, "M. Reyer, our chief repetiteur. Rather a tyrant, I'm afraid." The rehearsal continued as the men stood from the sidelines and watched. They could tell this was something Lefèvre took great pride in. his face practically glowed at the sight of his leading lady and man.

_Sad to return to find the land we love _

_Threatened once more by _

_Rome's far-reaching grasp. _

_Tomorrow we shall break _

_The chains of Rome. _

_Tonight, rejoice - your army has _

_Come home. _

Piangi pounded out the word "Rome" while throwing Reyer a dirty look. Carlotta also gave a scathing glance at the music master. The ballet girls swooped out for their dance in fitted green and red valor costumes. The bodice matched Carlotta's and they even had small tiaras in their curled hair. While her skirt was a full ball gown style complete with false jewels, the slave girls wore stringy skirts that showed off their legs and feet to an advantage. The two leading slave's girls were Meg and Christine. As the ballet girls began their dance, Lefèvre, Andre and Firmin stood center stage watching the ballet. They were in the way of the girls.

As they danced, Lefèvre discussed the ins and outs of the theater for the new managers. "Signor Piangi, our principal tenor. He does play so opposite La Carlotta. "He pointed his cane at the portly man, struggling to his feet against his own weight and gold roman skirt. The prim ballet mistress exasperated by their presence banged her cane angrily on the stage. "Gentlemen, please! If you would kindly move to one side?" startled they moved quickly. "My apologies, Mme. Giry." Lefèvre said calmly unfazed. Years of Giry's no nonsense demeanor built up his respect for the widow. Leading Andre and Firmin aside Lefèvre continued "Mme. Giry, our ballet mistress. I don't mind confessing, M. Firmin, I shan't be sorry to be rid of the whole blessed business." Firmin and André knew this. Had they not been so interested in the business or thought they could make a profit off of it they might have been perturbed. Firmin however was a bit more consciousness "I keep asking you, monsieur, why exactly are you retiring?" Lefèvre decided not to answer. The explanation was too ridiculous for words. Ignoring this, he called attention to the continuing ballet "We take a particular pride here in the excellence of our ballets."

Meg became prominent among the dancers. Her perfect steps and stage presence where unmistakable. Years of having the mistress of the ballet for a mother will do that. Her feet matched the music to a tee and her form was beyond reproach. The golden hair and bright blue eyes added to her angelic appearance as did her petite little body. Andre was entranced, though he was a "happily" married man, pretty young girls never ceased to capture his attention. "Who's that girl, Lefèvre?". The old manager didn't need to look up to know who he meant." Her? Meg Giry, Madame Giry's daughter. Promising dancer, M. Andre, most promising." Lefèvre had no worries of the man courting his girls, especially not Meg. Madame Giry may have to use a cane but he wouldn't want to be the man making advances on her daughter.

Christine suddenly fell out of step and caught some unwanted attention. Madame Giry spotted her, she banged her cane again. "You! Christine Daaé! Concentrate, girl!". Christine jumped and quickly found her place again. Meg cast a worried glance in her direction never missing a beat "Christine . . . What's the matter?". Christine couldn't answer. For a moment she looked up and could have sworn she saw a shadow. Ever since her last meeting with the angel of music she saw shadows anywhere.

Firmin, was curious at the name, he could have sworn he'd heard it before "Daaé? Curious name. "He told Lefèvre. "Swedish." Andre remembered the name from his time in Sweden. "Any relation to the violinist?". Daae was a well-known violinist in Sweden and his talent made his name well known. "His daughter, I believe. Always has her head in the clouds, I'm afraid." Lefèvre didn't want to go into detail about the girl. Three years later he knew she still grieved her loss, he didn't need them knowing too much about her. As the ballet came to the climax and ended the chorus resumed.

_Bid welcome to Hannibal's guests - _

_The elephants of Carthage! _

_As guides on our conquering quests, _

_Dido sends _

_Hannibal's friends! _

Suddenly a real mechanical life sized elephant entered the staged. There was an elaborate saddle upon it which Piangi, with extreme difficulty on the part of the Slave boys, was lifted onto. Carlotta dramatically sang out to him.

_Once more to my _

_Welcoming arms _

_My love returns _

_In splendor!_

Piangi, now a-top the elephant sang:

_Once more to those _

_Sweetest of charms _

_My heart and soul _

_Surrender!_

The chorus scattered to their proper places for the end of the act.

_The trumpeting elephants sound _

_Hear, Romans, now and tremble! _

_Hark to their step on the ground _

_Hear the drums! _

_Hannibal comes! _

Carlotta bowed dramatically in a frog like position. His music ended and the tired performers began blabbing. Carlotta fussed with her costume woman, Piangi was struggling to get down and the chorus mingled with the ballerinas. Meg and Christine began discussing their plans for Sunday, their day out of the ballet dorms. Meg wanted to try going to a café and Christine insisted she needed to get her new ballet shoes taken care of.

At the end of the chorus, Lefèvre clapped his hands for silence. The cast didn't hear him over their own gabbing. The elephant was led off the stage by two fly boys. One of them winked at Christine and Meg, who smiled demurely back. As the elephant was led off, the side opened to reveal the two drunken stage hands within. "Ladies and gentlemen" Lefèvre continued. Madame Giry banged her cane. "Madame Giry, thank you - may I have your attention, please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, M. Richard Firmin and M. Gilles Andre. "The now quiet cast politely applauded and some even bowed. The ballerinas assed the men to see if they had any potential for a future husband or paramour. Sorelli, caught Christine and Meg's attention and made a face indicating no. They giggled. Carlotta, though devoted to Piangi, was not above flirting to get in good with the managers. She made her presence known. Lefèvre knew this was his cue "Gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now." She stuck out her hand and batted her large brown eyes before he'd even finished his sentence. Andre was receptive; he was after all a great admirer of theatre divas "Of course, of course. I have experienced all your greatest roles, Signora. "And he meant it too. Kissing her chubby hand was a thrill for him. Firmin was slightly more put off. Like Madame Giry, he had a low threshold for nonsense. "And Signor Ubaldo Piangi." Piangi didn't bother with put on airs for these men. He made a curt bow and shook hands. "An honor, Signor." Firmin told him. Piangi was a snob but he was a talented actor, something Firmin respected.

Andre, eager to get into Carlotta's good graces went with the idea of flattery "If I remember rightly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in Act Three of "Hannibal". I wonder, Signora, if, as a personal favor, you would oblige us with a private rendition? (Somewhat acerbic). Unless, of course, M. Reye objects . . ." Reye wanted to object. After all this rehearsal he was exhausted! How could this woman even have the energy to sing one more song? She answered for him however. "My manager commands . . . M. Reye?" As exasperated as he was Reyer had no choice. "My diva commands. Will two bars be sufficient introduction?" Not that he had even the slightest intention of going beyond that. If she was going to make him do this he would have some control. Firmin, shared his sentiments. "Two bars will be quite sufficient "Ensuring that Carlotta was ready, as she primped and powered and gargled. "Signora?" after much fussing and adjustments she responded "Maestro." The introduction is played on the piano.

_Think of me, _

_Think of me fondly, _

_When we've said _

_Goodbye. _

_Remember me _

_Once in a while - _

_Please promise me _

_You'll try. _

Someone yawned and was given a reproachful look from Piangi. Meg snickered, annoyed by the diva attitude but Christine looked on with admiration. Carlotta was older; she had a few good years left in the opera before she too was replaced. Christine hoped with all her hard work with her Angel that she would be considered. At 21, she was the perfect age. Her angel promised he would help her achieve her dreams.

_When you find _

_That, once _

_Again, you long _

_To take your heart . . . _

As Carlotta sang a backdrop crashed to the floor cutting her off from half the cast. The ballet girls shrieked and pointed. "_He's here: the Phantom of the Opera . . . He is with us . . . It's the ghost_ . . ."

Meg especially was frightened. She had feared the ghost for years. When she was 12 a few of the ballet girls dared her to look for the infamous ghost. She'd been inspecting an area in the old prop room when she found a hollow part of the wall. She went thru it and found herself in a narrow passage. Unable to get out she felt her way down the passage. Feeling frightened she began to weep. Finally she found an outlet and fallowed it. She fell into a mirrored room, the phantoms torture room. She screamed and fainted. When she awoke she became aware the opera ghost was carrying her. She had been too scared to move. He put her down outside the room she came in thru and the next day her mother received a note. It told her to watch her daughter more carefully, for next time he may not hear her screams. Since then Meg full heartedly believed in the opera ghost and feared him.

Presently however, he was a mere annoyance to anyone who had not had such an encounter. Piangi looked up at the rafters furious "You idiots!" he rushed over to the still standing, though overly emotional, Carlotta. "Cara! Cara! Are you hurt?" She fanned herself and put a delicate hand on his shoulder to steady her. Lefèvre was also concerned and upset. "Signora! Are you all right? Bouquet! Where is Bouquet?" He too looked to the cat walk hoping to chastise the bumbling drunk of a stage master. Carlotta was now thoroughly milking the attention and leaned on Piangi for support. "Is no one concerned for our prima donna? "The pudgy man asked. The cast was shaken but not enough to fawn over her the way Piangi was. Christine too felt a sense of trepidation. She had seen a show moving above them. It had to be him. The phantom. Meg told her the stories and Christine too feared him. She had no idea her angel and the phantom were one in the same.

Lefèvre continued looking for Bouquet "Get that man down here !" he explained to Andre and Firmin "Chief of the flies. He's responsible for this." The drop was raised high enough to revel upstage and an old stagehand, Joseph Bouquet, holding a noose like rope. "Bouquet! For God's sake, man, what's going on up there?" Bouquet, whose eyes were usually dim and blood shot were now wide and frightened. He clutched the rope close"_Please monsieur don't look at me: as God's my witness, I was not at my post. Please monsieur there's no one there: and if there is, well then, it must be a ghost . . ._ "

This once again sent the cast into excited chatter. People looked up, down and everywhere for a sight of the so-called-ghost. Meg went close to her mother and pointed for the managers _"He's there; the Phantom of the Opera ... "Andre_ had a sense of humor but he felt this was the wrong time for a joke, especially one towards an idol. He chastised the pretty little thing "_Good heavens! Will you show a little courtesy?_" Madame Giry put a protective hand on her daughters shoulder and scowled at him. She didn't like her child causing a stir but she liked even less when someone presumed to over step their bounds with her. Firmin felt this was all too much. "Mademoiselle, please!" Andre heard of Carlotta's temperament. It she was too worked up she wouldn't deliver the performance his patrons were paying for. "These things do happen." Carlotta dropped the act when she saw how disconcerted he seemed. Rather than the amount of devotion she expected, he acted as though it was nothing. She exploded "Si! These things do happen! Well, until you stop these things happening, this thing does not happen! Ubaldo! Andiamo!" with the snap of her fingers Piangi flew off the fetch her furs and jewels from the wings. Before he left he strode by the two men "Amateurs!" If Lefèvre had ever needed an exit, he'd gotten one. "I don't think there's much more to assist you, gentlemen. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Frankfurt. "And with the tip of his hat he fairly ran out of the theatre. The company looked anxiously at the new managers.

Madam Giry heard a small voice in her ear and turned in time to catch the white envelope with the red seal. Andre did his best to assure the cast "La Carlotta will be back." "You think so, messieurs?" They turned to the distinguished looking ballet mistress. "I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." Firmin had had enough "God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!" Giry continued unfazed. "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due." "His salary?" Firmin expounded in disbelief. "Monsieur Lefèvre paid him twenty thousand francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron." the Ballet girls took notice of this news. Christine took hold of Meg nervously, she knew that name but it couldn't be… "Madame, I had hoped to have made that announcement myself." She ignored this "Will the Vicomte be at the performance tonight, monsieur?" Christine was fairly digging her nails in Meg's arm at anticipation. She didn't know what her friend was doing and took her hands asking what was wrong. Christine was distracted and didn't hear Firmin's response. "Yes, in our box." Andre however had bigger concerns. "Madame, who is the understudy for this role?" Reyer was in a panic "There is no understudy, monsieur - the production is new."

Meg heard this and had an idea. "Christine Daae could sing it, sir." She pulled her friend forward. Christine felt like someone had dumped ice water on her. She had sung the song for Meg a few times in the dorms when they practiced alone but she couldn't sing it. Not the way Carlotta did. She couldn't do it. Apparently Firmin felt the same way, "The chorus girl?" he said in disbelief. But Meg was confident in her friend, besides Christine told her of a great teacher, who had tutored her nearly every night. "She's been taking lessons from a great teacher" Little Giry insisted. Andre was now curious, as he knew almost all the best singing teachers. "From whom?" terrified Christine answered "I don't know, sir . . ." and she didn't. He never told her his name and telling them about the angel of music wouldn't be wise. "Oh, not you as well! Can you believe it? A full house - and we have to cancel!" Firmin was nearly redder than Carlotta's hair. Madam Giry had a feeling she knew who this teacher was. "Let her sing for you monsieur. She has been well taught!" She was fond of the girl and knew her dreams. Christine deserved a chance. After a pause Reyer sighed "From the beginning of the aria then, mam'selle."


	3. Think of Me

**Think of me**

The terrified ballet girl shakily took the center. She turned to Meg as she was handed the shimmery scarf. " I can't do this" she mouthed to her smiling friends. " you'll be fine" Meg mouthed back griining. Happy for her friend. This was something Christine had always dreamed of and Meg knew she deserved it. Christine began with a ttembling voice:

_Think of me _

_Think of me fondly, _

_When we've said goodbye. _

The last note turned to a whisper as she turned to hurry off stage. Madame Giry banged her cane again, making the mangers jump but it seemed to have the desired effect. Christine turned around and continued.

_Remember me _

_Once in a while - _

_Please promise me _

_You'll try. _

Firmin whispered annoyed to his partner, who was enjoying the sweet soprano's voice and pretty face. "Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves." "Don't fret, Firmin." Christine took a breath and looked up at the magnificent chandelier. She felt the spot light on her and heard no sound except her accompaniment. This was what her father had wanted for her; this was what her Angel had wanted for her. She looked at the dazzling scarf in her hands and felt a charge go thru her. She began to move and sway with the perfect chorography for Elissa _When you find _

_that, once _

_again, you long _

_to take your heart back _

_and be free - _

_if you _

_ever find _

_a moment, _

_spare a thought _

_for me _

The company broke into applause, many griming at the young Daae orphan who had come out of a hopeless situation only to become a true song bird. Somewhere above her angel grinned. It was decided that Christine would indeed play the leading lady role. As though it was happening all at once the scene transformed into the gala opening. With ease Christine was transformed into the beautiful mistress of Hannibal, continuing her ballad.

_We never said _

_our love _

_was evergreen, _

_or as unchanging _

_as the sea - _

_but if _

_you can still _

_remember _

_stop and think _

_of me . . . _

_Think of August _

_when the trees were green- _

_don't think about the way _

_things might have been . . . _

_Think of me, _

_think of me waking, _

_silent and _

_resigned. _

_Imagine me, _

_trying too hard _

_to put you _

_from my mind. _

_Recall those days _

_look back _

_on all those times, _

_think of the things _

_we'll never do - _

_there will _

_never be _

_a day, when _

_I won't think _

_of you. . _

She strutted elegantly across the stage, her movements graceful and feminine in a way Carlotta's never were. She seemed to be lovingly singing to the scarf as she twirled it around. The musical interlude allowed her to move freely. The audience applauded and a few "Bravos" were heard. One came from a handsome sandy haired young man sitting in the mangers box. Raoul de Changy was his name; he had been entranced by this young singer only to realize how and why he knew her. "_Can it be? Can it be Christine_? Bravo!" he raised his gold opera glasses and continued to watch the hazel eye beauty enchant the audience with her beauty and voice. _"Long ago, It seems so long ago, How young and innocent we were!" _he lowered his glasses and grinned happily at the memory, with a heart melting smile "_She may not remember me, but I remember her... " _Christine continued her aria:

_We never said _

_our love _

_was evergreen, _

_or as unchanging _

_as the sea - _

_but please _

_promise me, _

_that sometimes _

_you will think _

_of me! _


	4. Angel of Music

**Angel of Music**

She tossed to scarf with the last note to tremendous applause. The audience was on its feet applauding the new star of the Paris opera house. Christine's already naturally pink cheeks flushed even pinker. She bowed and curtsied, never denying the audience her brilliant smile. After a few more flowers were thrown on stage and some shouts of " encore ended the curtain came down. The curtain closed upstage and the ballet girls, from the wings gush around, Christine who handed each a flower from her bouquet. Reyer stiffly gave his approval. Madame Giry interrupted the excited twitter of her dancers. "Yes, you did well. He will be pleased." Christine smiled nervously. "And you! You were a disgrace tonight! Such ronds de jambe! Such temps de cuisse! Come, we rehearse. Now!" she led the girls away to the dance rooms behind the stage and dressing rooms. She was truly disappointed in the flimsy, careless dancing. She emphasized this with her cane, keeping time with her stick. Meg hung back to talk to Christine in her dressing room. Something was odd about Christine. She had done splendidly and her voice was perfection but despite the dazzle of her performance Meg could see something had changed in her friend.

Christine slowly walked towards Carlotta's old dressing room. As she was about to open the dressing room door, she heard a voice out of nowhere _"Brava, Brava, bravissima. . . " . _Bewildered by the voice, she didn't notice Meg. Meg heard nothing and giggled when Christine turned in surprise, and was relieved to see her. _"Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect!_ ". Christine smiled as her friend brushed her unruly curls off her sweaty face. She sat at the shiny black vanity and faced the ornate mirror removing her make-up and wig_. "I only wish I knew your secret! Who is this new tutor?" _Christine paused and got a faraway look in her eye. Meg had been dying to ask her for months since she first heard Christine sing but she never dared. Likewise Christine had wanted to tell her of her angel but had resisted. Now she decided she must.

_"Father once spoke of an angel . . . I used to dream he'd appear . . . Now as I sing, I can sense him . . . And I know he's here . . ._ ". She seemed almost as though she were in a trance as she removed her enormous hoop skirt and handed it to the costume mistress_." Here in this room he calls me softly . . . somewhere inside . . . hiding . . . Somehow I know he's always with me . . . he - the unseen genius . . ." _Meg was now very concerned and uneasy_." I watched your face from the shadows, distant through all the applause.. I hear your voice in the darkness... but the words aren't yours.. ". _Christine removed the tiara and barely heard her. She spoke ecstatically. _"Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory!" _It was a prayer she had sung many times to summon her angel. She seemed to forget Meg was there. Her little blonde friend whispered timidly to herself. "Who is this angel? This . . ." and their thoughts met. _" Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Secret and strange angel .. . "_

Then a dark thought came to Christine's mind. _"He's with me, even now . . ._ " She gripped Meg's hand on her shoulder, Meg was startled by how cold they were._ "Your hands are cold . . ."_ _"All around me . . ."._Catching sight of her friends face in the mirror, _"Your face, Christine, its white . . .". _ _"It frightens me . . ."_ Meg put a comforting hand on Christine's pale cheek. _" Don't be frightened . . ." _They shared a sisterly moment before Madame Giry arrived. "Meg Giry. Are you a dancer?" She nodded, head bowed and hands behind her back as though she were still twelve years old. "Then come and practice." She said sternly. Meg looked back at her frightened friend, who smiled weakly and nodded to her. Meg left to join the dancers. Madame Giry handed Christine a note in a sealed envelope. "My dear, I was asked to give you this." She left, closing the door behind her. Christine looked at the note confused, who would send her a note. Was it from the infamous opera ghost? She opened it and read. "A red scarf . . . the attic . . . Little Lotte . . ." she repeated the words quietly befuddled. Who would send her this. It felt familiar, as though from a distant memory she couldn't place. Sighing she continued changing, putting on a white lacey ruffled robe.


	5. Little Lotte

**Little Lotte**

Raoul, Andre, and the Firmin's were on their way to the dressing room. They had celebrated the success of the gala night with quite a few drinks and ready to congratulate its star. Andre was blown away by the beauty and talent Christine exhibited. Firmin was just relived to have not made any refunds. Mrs. Firmin was also impressed by the young singer, having seen a variety of them in her day, this little girl could have her name on every stage in Europe. "A tour de force! No other way to describe it!" Andre announced very high spiritedly. "What a relief ! Not a single refund!" Firmin raised his glass to drink. "Greedy." His wife muttered, causing him to roll his eyes. "Richard, I think we've made quite a discovery in Miss Daaé!". Firmin grunted enthusiastically.

" Here we are, Monsieur le Vicomte." Indicating Christine's dressing room. Raoul's heart was pounding at the excitement of seeing his childhood sweetheart again. She had become quiet the blooming flower. Straightening his even clothes and his hair " Gentlemen if you wouldn't mind. This is one visit I should prefer to make unaccompanied." He took the champagne glass from Firmin and swallowed it all before handing it back. " As you wish, monsieur." Stuttered a slightly surprised Andre. They bowed to him, even though he barely noticed as he braced himself to open the door. "They appear to have met before . . . " Firmin muttered as the men and left the young man to his lady.

Raoul knocked on the door, and before waiting for a response, entered. "Christine Daaé, where is your red scarf?". The confused brunette, couldn't see his face in the dim gaslight. "Monsieur?" "You can't have lost it. After all the trouble I took. I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin . . . ". A memory rushed back to her. At the beach when she was a child, her little red scarf that had been her mother's blown off and flew into the ocean. She had called out and cried for someone to fetch it. A young handsome, sandy haired boy with blue eyes dove in the rough waters to fetch it. He'd run all the way up a sand dune dripping wet to hand her the scarf. "Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf. Oh, Raoul. So it is you!". He smiled, that beautiful, bright white smile. "Christine. "They embraced warmly, laughing at the happy shared memory that seemed so long ago. She returned to her fancy dressing room table and took out the golden earrings, while Raoul recounted an old story " "

"Little Lotte let her mind wander . . ." She smiled to herself "You remember that, too . . . " ". . . Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls . . ." Christine joined him in the tender, bittersweet memory _". . . or of goblins, of shoes . . ." ". . . or of riddles. Of frocks . . ." _He put his strong hands on her lily white shoulders, "Those picnics in the attic _. . . or of chocolates . . ."_ she touched his hands lightly and leaned into him. "Father playing the violin . . . " It hurt to think of him. Raoul knew of his death and held her hand sharing her grief. He had loved the man as much as his own father. He was devastated at the news of his death and the loss of Christine. "As we read to each other dark stories of the North . . ." She shook her head, her pretty hazel eyes went wide with a girlish glimmer,

_"No what I love best, Lotte said, _

_Is when I'm asleep in my bed, _

_And the Angel of Music sings songs in my _

_Head!" _

He had almost forgotten the legendary Angel of music_.". . . The Angel of Music sings song in my _

_Head!". _She turned to face him as he knelt to her and held her hand close to his heart. "Father said, "When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you". Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music." He kissed her hand and smiled at her happy memory of her late father's promise. He wanted to see her more, she was like a little angel, his death broke her heart but not her spirit. He could see the beautiful, bright happy spirit she had always been. " No doubt of it. And now we'll go to supper!" Christine took her hand back and jumped up, causing him to do the same. "No, Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict." Her voice suddenly shaky and scared. Raoul was too happy at their reunion to hear her or notice her tone "I shan't keep you up late" "No, Raoul . . ." He brushed off his coat, not hearing her, "You must change. I must get my hat. Two minutes Little Lotte." He stopped to beam at her, then hurried out. She called after him "Raoul!" She shut the door and locked it. Rushing over to hide the rose on her dressing room table, "Things have changed, Raoul."


	6. The Mirror

**The Mirror**

Christine's heart was beating to invisible yet tremulous music. It was a feeling she couldn't name but she suddenly had the sensation of being watched, when she suddenly heard him: _"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion basking in your glory!". _This booming voice seemed to echo from behind her large golden full length mirror. _"Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"._ She knew it was her angel and stood, spell bound to answer him: _"Angel! I hear you! Speak - I listen . . . stay by my side, guide me!" _. She feared he was angry with her. _"Angel, my soul was weak - forgive me . . . enter at last, Master!" _

she held out her hands pleadingly, staring upward towards the heavens. Her angel was pleased with her repentance, though he knew it wasn't her fault. The boy held no power over her the way he did. Up until now he was unsure of whether to reveal himself but her performance was a gift, greater than any emperor could ever have. She had given him her soul tonight and he would reward her. _" Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide! Look at your face in the mirror - I am there inside!_ " Yes he wanted her to see him. He wanted to touch her, hold her in his arms and be his alone. His figure became discernible behind the mirror. One of his many ghostly tricks and slowly whirled towards the mirror, ecstatic. "_Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Come to me, strange angel... ". _His voice was smooth and mesmerizing, truly beautiful to the ear. He drew her to him, she might think him the angel of music but it was the opposite. Her grace, her voice, her passion. She was truly an angel of music or of heaven.

_"I am your Angel ... Come to me: Angel of Music ...". _Christine walked towards the glowing, shimmering glass. Outside the door Raoul returned. He could hear the Phantom beckoning Christine and was puzzled. Christine was not the type of girl to entertain strange men. He tried to open the door and found it locked. "Whose is that voice . . .? Who is that in there . . .?". Inside the room the mirror opened to reveal an inferno of white light. A figure illuminated by it was the phantom. He reached out a pale hand and took Christine's own delicate wrist firmly but not fiercely. She gasped at his could hand but he waylaid her fears with his trance like voice. _"I am your Angel of Music . . . Come to me: Angel of Music . . ."._ Christine disappeared through the mirror, which closed behind her. The door suddenly unlocks of its own accord and swung open. The confused Raoul entered to find an empty room. "Christine! Angel!"


	7. The Phantom of the Opera

**The Phantom of the Opera**

The Phantom and Christine began their strange journey to his lair underground. _" In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came . . ." _He held a lantern to light their way thru the dank wetness of the caver ns to which they descended. _"That voice which calls to me and speaks my name . . ." _He held her hand confidently, knowing she was too entranced to run away. "_And do I dream again? For now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there - inside my mind . . ."_ He peered into the darkness as she looked at him in fascination. _"Sing once again with me our strange duet . . _." he now faced her, his white mask almost ethereal in the darkness by the lanterns dim glow_. "My power over you grows stronger yet . . ."_ He released her hand, Christine looked back into the blackness of the tunnel behind her _"And though you turn from me, to glance behind"_ He gently put two fingers under her chin and turned her head back to him. _"The Phantom of the Opera is there - inside your mind . . ."_ he took hold of her wrist and held it at the level of her eyes, pulling her forward.

_"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear . . . I am the mask you wear . . ."_She stared transfixed on his face. The side she could see was that of a handsome man in his forties. His black hair slicked done perfectly, the opposite of Raoul's in inviting sandy waves. Deep dark eyes set in fair skin. A strong jaw, Roman nose. He was perfection and yet half of his face was concealed. _"It's me they hear . . ." _Simultaneously they connected. _"Your/my spirit and your/my voice, in one combined: the Phantom of the Opera is there inside your/my mind . . ._

_ "_They disappeared into the shadows. The Phantom knew his way by heart. Christine felt him lift her and put her into a boat. He stood in the large black gondola and pushed off from the rocky edge. The lantern now hung on the edge. Christine sat at the bow in disbelief; this was something out of a mystery tale... She could almost hear distant voices _"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera . . . Beware the Phantom of the Opera . . ."_ He needed to call her back _"In all your fantasies, you always knew that man and mystery . . . "_

_". . . Were both in you . . . "_he grinned as he echoed her thoughts with her. _"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is there/here inside your/my mind . . . ". _As they neared his lair candles seemed to rise out of the lake. They came upon it and she saw a huge golden organ that occupied the entire wall of this cavern. It was covered with candles and music notes, a few quills. The boat came to an inlet and rested, seemingly alone. He jumped out and helped Christine out delicately. "Sing, my Angel of Music!" Seeing his whole face now, fixated by his handsome features that were juxtaposed to the blank white leather, she was hypnotized and obeyed:

_"He's there, _

_The Phantom of the Opera . . ." _She began to vocalize strangely, her song becoming more and more extravagant. She ended on the highest not she had ever hit and the powerful sound reverberated off the walls. Shocked at herself, Christine touched her throat looking at him with her eyes wide and her mouth still open. He gave her the most bewitching half smile.


	8. Music of the Night

**Music of the Night**

They were in the Phantoms lair. The candles in the lake lifted up revealing giant candelabrums, outlining the space. The Phantom turned from Christine and sat before the enormous organ. The keys were set upon a wrought iron contraption which allowed him to face his angel while he sang to her. _"I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne . . . to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music . . . music . . . "_He knew his voice, especially when he sang had a power and magic all its own. Christine was still in a slightly trance like state, though the shock of where she was shook her out of it. He noticed her apprehension and knew he must now draw her back. _"You have come here, for one purpose, and one alone . . . Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me, to serve me, to sing, for my music . . . my music . . ." _he played softly for her changing the mood. She had her back to him, torn between fascination and apprehension. However the sound, the changing mood was too beautiful and she could not ignore it.

_"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation . . . Darkness stirs and wakes imagination . . . Silently the senses abandon their defenses . . ." _He stood, seeming to indulge himself in his own words. Christine still looked a little startled, but began to get lost in melody. She swayed, looking into the twinkling candles. He came down and slowly walked towards her, encouragingly. _"Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor . . . Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender . . ."_ He lightly pushed her face away from the candles warm glow_. "Turn your face away from the garish light of day," _He then put all four fingers under her chin to move her face to look at him_ "turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light –" _She looked at him, their faces only inches apart. He didn't want her to look at him so closely, not yet_. "and listen to the music of the night . . ."_ he strode away, not facing her. Whirling around her moved his hands as if to hypnotize the young girl. Christine felt as though in a dream and began to fall deeper. _"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!"_ he swiftly moved behind her, even the space seemed too intimate. _"Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!" _Barely realizing it, Christine visibly relaxed and smiled. _"Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar!" _He waved his hands in front of her eyes and moved, too far to touch her, down to where her voice came from. The hand rose ever so slowly, finally coming to her throat. "And you'll live as you've never lived before . . ." Christine fallowed his hand, seeing her eyes alight Erik couldn't help himself. With the back of his hands, he brushed his fingers to her pink cheek. She responded to his touch by turning into it. Once again he found them so close he could look into her bright beautiful hazel eyes, almost green in the dim light. They were close enough to kiss, but he did not move away. _"_

_"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you . . . Feel it, hear it, closing in around you. . ." _He allowed her to memorize the handsome side of his face, before backing away slowly. He wondered how powerful his hold was over her, will she fallow him? _"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight – "she_ did. He continued the strange ballad, slowly leading her to him. He leaned against the railing of his key board. She came closer, his eyes, those beautiful dark eyes, she couldn't help but looking into them with desire. He saw this and felt the stirrings of lust as she drew nearer _"the darkness of the music of the night . . . "_Reaching out Christine wanted to touch his mask, she couldn't explain why, but tore away to the boat. _"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world!" _but his hold never weakened and his dazzling voice stopped her. The lights seemed to take on a life of their own. The crystal and black metal shone in the fiery lights, this world of darkness truly took on a life of its own. _"Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!" _Christine twirled in this elegance and opulence. It was a contrast from the whites, pinks, and powder blues of the ballet world. This was something she had never experienced before. _"Let your soul take you where you long to be!" _His booming voice seemed to vibrate in her body. She could feel as though her spirit was literally going towards his voice. Erik was only feet away from Christine but he knew she would soon understand him, feel one with him. She would see that no one loved her as he did. She was so close to being his if only she would let herself fall into the music. _"Only then can you belong to me . . ."_

he gingerly stepped behind her, slowly put his hand over her heart, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. At his touch, Christine felt at peace and fell into his safe embrace. _"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!"_ Gently they swayed; he felt a strong heat in him and couldn't control his impulse. He wanted her to touch him._ Touch me, trust me savor each sensation!" _during all this, Erik conditioned Christine to the coldness of his touch and her fingers are brave enough to stray to his mask and caress it, with no hint of removing it. _"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write –"he_ led her to a shroud covering something that looked ornate beneath the cloth. The captivated beauty felt her breath catch with excitement.

_"The power of the music of the night . . ._" he removed the dust cover and in the broken remains of a once grand mirror, a perfect wax- face impression, wearing a wedding gown. Christine moved slowly towards it when suddenly the image thrusts its hands through the mirror towards her She fainted. Erik caught her and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down. Admiring the beauty of her sleeping form Erik felt craving as he had never felt. He finally had his angel, she was his. He uttered a plea _"You alone can make my song take flight - help me make the music of the night . "_


	9. Stanger than you Dreamt it

**Stranger than you Dreamt it**

Christine slept soundly through the night. Erik spent hours admiring her sleeping form; the way her dark curls were spread out, her eyes flutter as if in dream, she stirred but never opened her eyes. He couldn't help himself at one point and moved her hair off her exposed skin. Eventually he needed a distraction and changed to his comfort clothes to work some on his opera. Hour's later music echoed off the rocky walls. He was seated at the organ playing with furious concentration. He broke off occasionally to write the music down .Beside the bed he had placed a music box to sooth the sleeping girl, though it had been hours since she'd fallen asleep, Mysteriously, it played as Christine woke up. The music kept her in a half-trance. "I remember there was mist . . . swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake . . . There were candles all around and on the lake there was a boat, and in the boat there was a man . . ." she saw him seated with his back to her, feverishly working. She rose and approached the Phantom who did not see her "Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?" with a strange excitement mixed with overwhelming curiosity she reached for his mask, he turned, almost catching her. This happened several times. finally she tore the creamy leather the mask from his face. He sprung up at the exact moment she felt a scream ripped from her throat_._

_"Damn you! You little prying Pandora!"_ In his anger he slapped her causing her to fall back. She got up and ran to the grate separating them from the outside. He chased after her wildly, in an almost animalistic way roaring at her "_You little demon - is this what you wanted to see?" _He moved his hand away from his face grabbing her wrist and forcing her to drag her nails across the tattered flesh. "_Curse you! You little lying Delilah!"_ She cried out again, feeling the harsh twisted skin under her finger tips and from his strong grip on her small wrist_. "You little viper! now you cannot ever be free!"_ He released her, once again causing her to trip on her dressing gown. _"Damn you . . . Curse you . . . "he_ sunk dejectedly to the floor, attempting to regain some control over himself. The silence was palpable amidst Christine's light sobs and his labored breathing. Containing his composer as best her could, he crawled towards her in a wraithlike fashion. _"Stranger than you dreamt it - can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly . . . secretly . . . " _He was mere inches form her when he stopped at the broken mirror with her life sized replica, eerily staring down at him. For a moment he looked into its dead eyes and expressionless face muttering before remembering the very real Christine he was currently horrifying. _"But, Christine . . . Fear can Turn to love - you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this . . . repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly . . . secretly . . . "he_ stopped with less than a foot separating them. Christine hid her face from him, too paralyzed to mover or even look at him. He felt the warm tears run over the deformed flesh as he looked to her in silent pleading desperation. "Oh, Christine . . . no" he caught sight of himself on one of the small shards that still remained in the frame. He made a cry of disgust and despair before sobbing into his own hands.

Christine had never seen this before. For the past three years this man had been her angel of music, the guardian her father sent. It was he whom she had to thank for her success at the gala, for the angelic voice she now possessed. He was an imperfect angel and though his face was deformed in such a way he was no monster. Not to her. His anguish made her forget her own tears; she now felt more sympathy for him than for anyone else. She saw the mask a few feet from her where he had kicked it after it fell out of her hands. Gingerly lifting it and feeling the soft protective layer that he used to hide himself from the world she reached out to him. Through his sobs he saw her stretch towards him. Never moving his hand away from his damaged side he gratefully took the mask and replaced it. The horrendous excuse for a face was once again hidden. He smoothed his slicked hair and turned to her. On the ground at eye level they were equals. Christine's golden voice had caught his attention, but her beauty was enrapturing. It was something he barely valued in any sex but in this moment he had fallen in love, not just lust or envy or longing. It was the love from her kindness. It came from her acceptance of him. When she had made the choice to return the mask rather than point and stare, Christine had shown him something no one ever had. Looking into her dazzling eyes he was lost. No fear was behind them, pity perhaps, but not fear or disgust or even hatred. He noticed the angry red mark on her face from where he had slapped her. Fool! He'd stuck this beautiful angel! He knew she could not stay but he was not yet ready to go. Gently he reached to her face his fingertips brushing her cheek, still red from his impulsive slap. Though she was afraid of him now, she couldn't ignore the sadness in his once flaming eyes, and because of this didn't pull away. They gazed at each other with too many emotions to name. no longer feeling he could control himself, Erik broke the silence. "Come we must return - those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."


	10. Punjab lasso

**Buquet's tale**

The young ballerinas were exhausted after an entire day of rehearsal. They retired to the backstage to rest and talk before bed. All of a sudden Buquet mysteriously appeared, a length of fabric serving as a cloak, and a piece of rope as the Punjab lasso. He began showing off to the ballet girls. _"Like yellow parchment is his skin . . . a great black hole served as the nose that never grew . . . ". _The little dancers squealed at the haunting image of the ghost with death's head. Demonstrating his method of self-defense against the Punjab lasso, he inserted his hand between his neck and the noose, and then pulled the rope taut. With a mixture of horror and delight, the ballet girls applauded this demonstration.

He continued to explain to them his ghastly tale: _"You must be always on your guard, or he will catch you with his magical lasso!". _As he spoke a trap opens up somewhere behind the stage casting a shadow of the phantom as he emerges. The girls, linking hands, ran off terrified. Their high pitched shrieks altered the phantom but not the zombie like Christine. The phantom, fixed his stare on Buquet, who stood there gaping back the noose and cape still in hand. The death stare was enough to send chills through the chief of the flies. Sweeping his cape around Christine, the phantom exited with her. But before they go Madame Giry entered, and observed. She turns on Buquet: _"Those who speak of what they know find, too late, that prudent silence is wise. Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue he will burn you with the heat of his eyes . . . ". _

Buquet stomped off into the wings, leaving her alone. She looked back where the phantom and Christine had gone. She knew Erik's' temper was even fouler than his face. For all her years of acquaintance she knew blood would be shed. Buquet had not only mocked the ghost, though Erik never complained as it afforded him more freedoms if people thought him a specter or legend, he had let the ballet girls see him. Giry knew someone would pay, and worse she knew how.


	11. Notes

**Notes**

The clock struck 11 am in Paris. In the manager's office Firmin scornfully eyed a newspaper article: _"Mystery after gala night, "it says, "Mystery of soprano's flight!" "Mystified," baffled Surete say, "We are mystified - we suspect foul play!" Bad news on soprano scene -first Carlotta, now Christine!Ah, but still at least the seats get sold -gossip's worth its weight in gold... "_. He cackled to himself sitting on the ornately carved wooden desk and continued reading aloud. _"Diva tenders resignation! Cover does a moonlight flit! Half your cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers! Opera! To hell with Gluck and Handel -have a scandal and you're sure to have a hit!" _Andre strode in paper in his hand, frazzled, _"Damnable!Will they all walk out?_ _This is damnable!". _Firmin, still with a slight hangover from last night's celebrating, put a hand to his head stumbling over to his agitated partner. _"Andre, please don't shout its publicity and the take is vast, free publicity" _

_"But we have no cast!" _

_"But Andre, have you seen the queue?" _He sorts through some mail on his desk. Finding the two letters from the Phantom, "_Oh, it seems you've got one too ..."_ Andre frowned opening the lovely envelop, white but with an odd black ink that seemed to shine. He began to read:

_"Dear Andre, what a charming gala!_

_Christine enjoyed a great success! _

_We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left -_

_Otherwise, the chorus was entrancing,_

_But the dancing was a lamentable mess!"_

_""Dear Firmin, just a quick reminder:_

_My salary has not been paid._

_Send it care of the ghost,_

_By return of post -_

_P.T.O.:_

_No one likes a debtor,_

_So it's better if my orders are obeyed!"_

Both were puzzled (though Firmin seemed more amused) at who would have sent such letters. They leaned on the desk curious. _"Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a puerile brain!"_ They laughed at the writers expense. Firmin compared both letters: _"These are both signed "O.G." ..._

_"Who the hell is he?" _

Then it clicked. _"Opera ghost!"_ Firmin was not amused. _"It's really not amusing!"_

_"He's abusing our position!"_ Andre agreed.

_"In addition he wants money!"_

_"He's a funny sort of specter ..."_

_"... To expect a large retainer!"_

_"Nothing plainer - He is clearly quite insane!"_

They were interrupted by their handsome young patron, brandishing another black lined envelope, still in his coat and scarf fresh from the outside. _"Where is she?"._ His unexpected entrance caught the two men off guard. "_You mean Carlotta?" _A confused Andre asked, surly that must be his main concern. "_I mean, Miss Daae - where is she?" _Raoul frantically told them, having stayed up all night going over what had happened last night. "_Well, how should we know?" _An unconcerned Firmin snapped. "_I want an answer -I take it that you sent me this note?" _He angrily shoved the letter under Firmin's nose. _"What's all this nonsense?"_

"_Of course not!" _Andre came to his friends defense against the clearly erratic man. "_Don't look at us!" _Firmin told him. Raoul was now very frightened for her "_She's not with you, then?" _His heart stopped in his chest. "_Of course not!" _thinking perhaps the man was implying something lecherous. "_We're in the dark ..."_ Andre confirmed. Raoul had enough "_Monsieur, don't argue -Isn't this the letter you wrote?"_

"_And what is it that we're meant to have wrote?" _Firmin asked annoyed. The two men looked at him oddly, having realized his mistake "_Written!"_ Raoul thrust the letter at Andre and proceeded to take his coat and gloves off. Andre read;

_"Do not fear for Miss Daae._

_The Angel of Music has her under his wing._

_Make no attempt to see her again." _Firmin held the three letters up next to each other. The hand writing, unique ink and parchment were all one in the same. Raoul was perplexed "_If you didn't write it, which did?"_ Another intrusion as Carlotta stamped in from the other entrance, like a bat out of hell, with Piangi close behind her. She too held a letter and screamed to Firmin. "_Where is he?" _She bellowed at the two men who were the first she saw. "_Ah, welcome back!" _Andre tried pleasantly. _"Your precious patron -Where is he?"_ She continued to demand. Begrudgingly Raoul stepped forward "_What is it now?" _Carlotta shoved the letter in his face and waved it furiously, "_I have your letter -a letter which I rather resent!" _

_"And did you send it?"_

_"Of course not!" Raoul bellowed angrily._

_"As if he would!" _Carlotta and Piangi were in utter disbelief, "_You didn't send it?"_

"_Of course not!"_

_"What's going on ... "Firmin_ was getting short with everybody, especially this so-called ghost who seemed to be the source of the trouble. "_You dare to tell me_ _that this is not the letter you sent?!" _She held it out to him properly between her two red silk fingers as though it was a mouse. "_And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?" _She made a disgruntled noise at his eye roll. The young Vicomte read aloud;

_"Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered._

_Christine Daae will be singing on your behalf tonight._

_Be prepared for a great misfortune, should you attempt to take her place."_

This was meant by a stunned silence. Carlotta looking extremely offended, Piangi looking haughty and pale. The two managers were now completely frustrated with Christine Daae. "_Far too many notes for my taste -and most of them about Christine!_ _All we've heard since we came, is Miss Daae's name ..."_ Just then Madame Giry strode in as though she owned the office with little Meg behind her, still in her ballet clothes. "_Miss Daae has returned" _She informed them_._ _"In which case, I think our meeting is adjourned." _Firmin, was relieved that one problem was solved. "_Where precisely is she now?" _Andre was a little concerned for the girl; she wasn't the one behind this madness. "_I thought it best that she went home ..." _Madam Giry told him politely. "_She needed rest." _Meg piped up. Raoul eagerly approached the ballet mistress, "_May I see her?" _The older woman looked at him with pity and sadness, she felt sorry for him but she knew Christine wouldn't feel up to it, despite her strong affection for the boy. "_No, monsieur, she will see no one."_ She told him sadly.

Carlotta and Piangi were less gentle, demanding to know the burning question: Will_ she sing? Will she sing?" _They shrieked to her. Giry held up yet another black lined envelop, "_Here, I have a note ..." _Firmin and Piangi groaned. Meg looked on nervously having seen him hand the letter to her mother the night before. The phantom had laid Christine's exhausted body down on the bed and briefly spoke to her mother. Meg had watched from the gap in the door terrified but overwhelmed by curiosity. He'd turned and saw her spying. His dark eyes burned, into her little blue ones sending chills through her as though he could see inside her soul. In the present, Raoul, Carlotta and Andre rushed towards the calm Giry. "_Let me see it!" _Firmin, always the level headed of the managers called for order, "_Please!" _She handed him the letter. He ripped the now similar red seal open and read:

_"Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature,_

_Detailing how my theatre is to be run. _Firmin paused furious at this specters proclamation that he owned the theatre. However he continued;

_"You have not followed my instructions. _

_I shall give you one last chance ..."_

As he read they could all almost hear the voice of a man somewhere deep in the distance. Perhaps they were imagining it or perhaps the ghost was truly with them.

_"... Shall give you one last chance ... Christine Daae has returned to you,_

_And I am anxious her career should progress._

_In the new production of "Il Muto", you will therefore cast Carlotta as the Pageboy,_

_And put Miss Daae in the role of the Countess._

_The role which Miss Daae plays calls for charm and appeal._

_The role of the Pageboy is silent - which makes my casting, in a word, ideal._ The flowing almost lyrical writing halted as he came to the end written in bright red ink. "I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept open for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur ..." They all noticed that feeling of being watched as well as the mysterious faint voice stopped leaving only Firmin's harsh one. _"... I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant, O.G.". _A stunned silence fallowed. No one knew what to say or who to blame. This wasn't a prank; it had become a serious threat. Meg felt more afraid than ever for her close friend. She held her mother's arm, "_Christine ... Christine." _She whispered to herself sadly, praying for her safety and hoping she would be wary of her "Angel of Music". Meg began to connect the opera ghost to Christine's angel.

Carlotta was furious; she was being threatened and insulted by someone obsessed with a flimsy ballerina? The drab orphan who all of a sudden found her voice after years of never being capable of singing a note. "_Christine!" _She screeched. Andre threw up his hands exasperated "_Whatever next ...?" _Carlotta and Piangi meanwhile conspired against the little singer. _"It's all a ploy to help Christine!" _Firmin rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation, "_This is insane ..."_

"_I know who sent this The Vicomte - her lover!"_

_"Indeed? Can you believe this?" _the young man sneered at the overly made up diva. Andre however was a little more sensitive "_Signora!" _He rushed to her side, only to be blocked by Piangi "_How can you do this?" _She of course played her part as the victim perfectly "_I am unwanted!"_ Firmin was not playing along at all; "_This is a joke!"_ his partner was "_This changes nothing!"_

"_I am unwelcome!"_

_"Signora!"_ Firmin was ready to tell the prissy little woman off but Andre's pleading look stopped him, "_You are our star!"_

"_And always will be!"_

_"Signora ..."_

_"The man is mad!"_

_"We don't take orders!"_

Having had enough Firmin formally put his foot down to make a point, "_Miss Daae will be playing the Pageboy - the silent role ..." _Andre joined him, "_Carlotta will be playing the lead!"_ Piangi strode behind the diva and placed a protective hold on her shoulders "_You don't deserve her!" _Carlotta put on a teary voice and waved a dismissive hand "_It's useless trying to appease me!" _

"_Appease her –"Piangi_ parroted, miming her gesture. _"You're only saying this to please me!"_ Andre tried to approach her but was blocked by Piangi "_To please her –". _The Italian duo locked hands and shared a moment of over exaggerated passion. "_I will not listen!_ _You thus insult the honor of your prima donna?_ _Padre mio! Dio!" _

Ignoring the foolishness Madame Giry attempted once again to warn every one of the impending danger. _"Who scorn his word, beware to those ..." _she was over powered by Carlotta's whining "_You have reviled me!"_

_"The angel sees, the angel knows ..." _

Raoul completely oblivious to the madness around him puzzled over why Christine had so quickly left him. "_Why did Christine fly from my arms ... ?" _Meg observed him lost in thought and shared his concern, she feared for her friend "_Christine ..." _the moment was again interrupted by the antics of the talent and the management.

"_You have rebuked me!" _she cried indignantly. For their part the managers could only apologize _"Signora, pardon us ..."_. Not that it did much good or that she was even listening "_You have replaced me!" _. They gave it their best groveling, "_Please, Signora we beseech you ..." _. The dance mistress would be so easily taken in "_This hour shall see your darkest fears ...". _Christine's two friends had other concerns "_I must see her ..." _that didn't seem to trouble anyone else. "_This is uncalled-for for This is unfounded!_ _This is unheard of!" _ the opera stars were in their own world, headless of the danger. "_The angel knows, the angel hears ..."_ unfortunately so was Raoul, "_Where did she go?" _He stared at the letter trying to make sense of it all or trying to find a clue.

However the drama had reached its peak. Carlotta was in full rage "_You are unthinking! You are unfeeling!" _and Piangi was right by her side "_They are unthinking. They are unfeeling." _The managers gave one more attempt "_Signora, sing for us! Doesn't be a martyr ..." _While Mega and Raoul wondered what would happen next in this game "_What new surprises lie in store ... ?" _. Finally the mangers decided the best tactic was to feed the beast "_Our star!" _they shouted in excited unison to the pair, " _You go too far! _". Andre had enough was adamant to end it "_Your public needs you_!" he told the fiery red head grasping the parasol she thrust at him like a spear. "_We need you, too!" _Firmin, replied in the most begrudging way with a look of sickness on his squinted face. Carlotta turned around slowly and dramatically took off her gloves "_Would you not rather have your precious little ingénue?" _she asked already knowing the answer. "_Signora, no! the world wants you!", _and the groveling had begun.


	12. Prima Donna

"_Prima donna, first lady of the stage!_ _Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!" _. Andre waved to an invisible audience for effect "_Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?" _And a bitter Firmin joined him "_Think of how they all adore you!"_ he said practically rolling his eyes to his friend who had no choice but to grin. "_Prima donna, enchant us once again!". _They led her to the dressing rooms "_Think of your muse ..." _Andre handed her off to Firmin. "_And of the queues of the theatre!". _The entranced woman continued without guide as they fallowed "_Can you deny us the triumph in store?_ _Sing, prima donna, once more!" _

Raoul, behind in the office with the Giry's remind transfixed on the letters "_Christine spoke of an angel ...". _Carlotta's voice still lingering in the hall, "_You took a snub_ _but there's a public who need you!". _Madame Giry, no longer even talking to anyone in particular spoke to her self, "_She has heard the voice of the angel of music ..." _The managers overhearing this used it to their own advantage. "_Those who hear your voice liken you to an angel!". _In her own world, the diva spoke to herself in their person "_Think of their cry of undying support!" _as it she needed to convince herself of her own magnificent. Away from the madness, young De Changey began to put two and two together "_Is this her angel of music ... ?" _as did the managers, only in a different way.

_"We get our opera ..."_

_"She gets her limelight!"_

_"Follow where the limelight leads you"_

_"The limelight once again shall shine upon her."_

Little Meg was also begging to draw the same connections as Raoul "_Is this ghost an angel or madman ... ?" _She asked him, he looked at her for a beat and repeated the question to himself. "_Angel or madman ...?" _

Meanwhile the managers and the two prima donnas began to prepare for the show, each on their own world of misery and delusion. " _Leading ladies are a trial!"_ the two men muttered to each other as Carlotta began to be prepped and changed by her dressers with Piangi looking on.

_"Prima donna, your song shall never die!" _she told her reflection.

"_When she sings we see heaven" _Piangi also said to her reflection.

_"You'll sing again, and to an unending ovation!"_

_"Unending ovation now and always ..." _He was practically teary eyed looking at her as though she exuded radiance only he could see. Meg Giry was still wondering what kind of trouble Christine had gotten into "_Voice of hell, or of heaven ... ?" _ her mother was also worried, she was distressed over the managers decision to continue with the show, "_Heaven help you, those who doubt ...". _The young viscount poured over the letters, comparing them over and over, " _Order! Warnings! Lunatic demands!". _He threw them all down in frustration, "_This miscasting will invite damnation ..." _The ballet mistress told him putting a comforting hand on his arm_. "Bliss or damnation? Which has claimed her?" _Meg seemed to ask of no one in particular.

The managers meanwhile mocked the warnings despite their nerves, "_Tears ... oaths ... lunatic demands are regular occurrences!" _Carlotta was so enthralled with herself she hardly seemed to remember the letters, threatening her safety "_Think how you'll shine in that final encore!_ _Sing, prima donna, once more!". _Madame Giry looked into the dark hallway hearing the echoes of the orchestra before the show, "_Oh fools, to have flouted his warnings!" _Raoul didn't agree with the managers but he was also in charge of the opera house as much as they were. He also loved Christine and didn't want her to be unhappy or harmed, _"Surely, for her sake ..._ _... I must see these demands are rejected!. _Piangi began to worry about Carlotta and himself, "_Surely heads will roll ..._ _If his threats and demands are rejected." _Meg was also concerned, she knew from her mother's anxious face that this was serious, "_Surely he'll strike back ..._ _... if his threats and demands are rejected!" . _

The managers didn't seem to share the same concern, "_Surely there'll be further scenes - worse than this!". _Both of them tried to sound braver than they actually felt. Firmin pulled out some champagne for the celebration opening and shared a glass with his partner. They toasted and tried to calm their nerves by mocking the situation, _"You'd never get away with all this in a play, but if it's loudly sung and in a foreign tongue, it's just the sort of story audiences adore, in fact, a perfect opera!". _Proceeding to the backstage Madame Giry stopped in the dark hallway of the dressing rooms, "_Think, before those demands are rejected!"_. Meg went to go get ready for the performance, her nerves were on edge as were Raoul's "_Christine must be protected!". _Piangi began to put his own costume and make up on, more worried alone in his dressing are, reflecting on what Madame Giry had said, "_Honor must be protected!". _Carlotta wasn't interested in all of the whispers and notes and stories, "_Deposed! Rejected! Reappraised and re-elected?". _The managers continued to fawn over her and her costume girl continued to perfect the bulky skirts, _"The stress that falls upon a famous prima donna! Terrible diseases, coughs and colds and sneezes! Still, the driest throat will reach the highest note, in search of a perfect opera!". _Piangi shook off his own nerves placing the 17th century wig on his bald head,_ "Their game is over!". _Raoul also had gotten over his uneasiness and took a shot of brandy before filing into the theatre, "_His game is over! And in Box Five a new game will begin ..." _He drank the sharp burning liquid and told himself he had made the right call, _"Christine plays the Pageboy, Carlotta plays the Countess ..." _he was hoping Christine would be safe, though he had thoroughly enjoyed her beautiful voice. Backstage, The ballet mistress half-heartedly watched her girls prepare and heard the sound of the managers chattering away, "_This is a game you cannot hope to win!_ _For, if his curse is on this opera ..._ _... should you dare to ...". _Meg could see the reflection of the gay goings on between the prima donna and her admirers, "_if his curse is on this opera ..._ _... then I fear the outcome ..._ _... when you once again ..."._ The managers began to make way to the theatre, "_Prima donna, the world is at your feet!_ _A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!"_. Everyone was in place for the show to begin and they felt prepared for whatever was coming to them:

"_Light up that stage with that age-old rapport!_

_Sing, prima donna, once more!"_

Erik, ever watchful of the opera was in the upper cat walks staring down at the company, he spied Christine in her page boy clothes and Carlotta in the countess dress and headset. "_ So, it is to be war between us! If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!". _No one seemed to hear his roar. "_Once more!". _Then the lights went down.


End file.
